


Missing Pieces

by SnapMyNeckAndCallMeLoki



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-06-28 00:39:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15696627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnapMyNeckAndCallMeLoki/pseuds/SnapMyNeckAndCallMeLoki
Summary: With sightings of suspicious characters around Queens, New York, and the disappearance of May Parker, is anywhere safe for Peter?He knows the two are linked but he can't prove it. There are missing pieces in the puzzle and Peter is determined to find them. With the help of The Avengers, is Peter capable of bringing his aunt back to safety?





	1. Chapter One - The threat

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! Enjoy the first chapter of whatever the hell this is gonna be. I have a lot of plans and not much to say except this is an AU in which Infinity War is set a couple of years later and the accords were solved shortly after the events of civil war, along with a few other changes.
> 
> Anyway, kudos and comments are very much appreciated!

At first, it had just been another day.

Peter woke up, ate breakfast with May and went to school as normal. His classes went smoothly and were especially easy since summer break was only a week away. He had even almost avoided Flash, too. That was, until after the final bell had rung. He had been walking to his locker when he had been shoved, which caused him to trip and drop his books. It only took a short glance up to see Flash running out of the doors laughing. So, he picked up his stuff and continued. It could’ve been worse.

The walk home was normal too. He listened to music, kept an eye out for trouble and thought over everything he had learned that day, eager to finish his homework so he could go out and patrol. It was his therapy, it allowed him to escape his identity as ‘Peter Parker’ and become somebody entirely different and, ultimately, better than the lonesome high school kid that he was.

The first sign that something was wrong was when Peter first entered his and May’s apartment. 

“Hey, May, I’m home!” He called into the strangely quiet apartment, expecting a response from his aunt.

In fact, the radio was usually playing quietly when May was home, and if she wasn’t she’d always text Peter to tell him that she was working late, or that she was grabbing coffee with a friend. Thinking that he had possibly missed a call or a message from her, Peter dug his phone out from the left pocket of his baggy jeans and scrolled through the few notifications he had.

Nothing from May.

With a furrowed brow, he headed to May’s room, calling out again as he pushed open the door.

“May?”

She wasn’t asleep, lying there peacefully like he had hoped. She wasn’t there at all.

Discomfort settled in the pit of his stomach as Peter began to suspect that something wasn’t right. He turned his attention to his phone again, typing in his password and finding May’s contact. He tapped the 'call’ icon and waited.

Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzz.

That wasn’t coming from his phone.

Peter pulled the door open fully and jogged into the living room, spotting May’s black, leather handbag on the couch. He beelined, grabbing it hastily and scrambling to pull her phone from it.

1 Missed Call, Peter.

Peter inhaled sharply, his senses nagging at him, telling him that this wasn’t right. But he also knew he had to stay calm. He couldn’t panic just yet. Maybe she had just quickly headed to the corner shop down the road, or gotten caught up seeing a friend on the street.

With that in mind, he pushed back his uncertain feelings sat down at the dinner table, deciding to turn his attention to the homework he had been set that day. However, he made a mental note not to go out patrolling until May was back and he was sure she was safe.

Just to make sure, right?  
——–  
“Where am I? Where’s Peter?”

“…I assure you, ma'am, you aren’t in danger. Your nephew, however… well, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

“Peter? Peter! Oh God, don’t play the hero… Pe-”

Peter jolted awake, drenched in a cold sweat as a distant scream in his mind shocked him back into reality. His vision swam and his senses were dialled to eleven, the blind panic he was experiencing imprisoning his body. Peter didn’t care - he had to get to May, as soon as he could. Rushing to reach his aunt, Peter pushed his chair back and stood, only noticing the wild trembling in his hands when he knocked his unfinished homework off the table. 

“May?” He called out, slurred.

Not waiting for a response, Peter stumbled his way to May’s room. As he barged in, his worst fears were confirmed: the room was exactly as Peter had left it earlier - No May, no note, and no answers. Without missing a beat, he shot into his own room, and dived for the cardboard box under his bed, pulling it out and grabbing the Spider-Man suit and his web shooters.

In just a few short minutes, he opened his window and clambered to the roof, shooting a web to the nearest building. There was no way he could possibly know where to start, but there was no way in Hell Peter was just going to sit back while May was in danger.  
——–  
“…Stark, for the last time, this is nothing to be worrying about. Are you done rambling? I have duties to attend to.”

“At three in the morning? Nice try, Dumbledore.”

“You already know my opinion. Why insist on keeping me here?” 

Tony Stark sighed, forcing his eyes to Stephen’s. The sorcerer’s gaze was cold, calculating - as if Tony’s mind was just another riddle for him to solve. But of course, Stephen being Stephen already knew the answer. 

“Don’t make me say it,” Tony muttered, averting his eyes to the vast window beside them. Absent-minded, he swirled the whiskey in his glass, massaging his clenched jaw with his free hand. He allowed himself, for a moment, to focus on the tranquil sound of rain hitting the surface in front of his eyes, and watch the droplets trickle down in random patterns.

“It’s because of the kid,” Stephen said matter of factly, his eyes trained on the billionaire, expecting him to snap and deny his observation.

A deep sigh escaped Tony’s lips. He dropped his hand back to his lap, not having the will to pretend it wasn’t true. “Yes. It’s because of the kid.”

Masking his surprise, Stephen leaned forward, the red-velvet chair squeaking as he did so.

“Then why ask for my help?” He questioned.

Tony would’ve chuckled if the situation wasn’t worrying him so much. He placed his half-empty glass on the table next to Stephen’s empty one, before clearing his throat and lacing his fingers together.

“Because it’s the easiest way to keep tabs on the area. So far there have been five sightings - five! Each one closer to his apartment complex than the last.” Tony held Stephen’s gaze this time, his voice low and urgent

.Stephen paused, his brows knitted together as he realized why this was a concern for Tony. He gave himself a moment to think over the possibility of Peter being harmed - to put himself in Tony’s place. He shifted. The thought made even him uncomfortable.

“Where was the most recent sighting?” Stephen asked.

“Two blocks from where Peter lives. They even left a nice little note.” Tony commented, already pulling out the StarkPhone from his pocket.

“What did it say?”

“Way ahead of you, Doc.” 

Tony tapped the screen a few times before flipping the device to face Stephen. The wizard’s eyes narrowed as he took in the details of the image, leaving him wondering, why hadn’t Tony shown him this hours ago? Although it had been taken in what seemed to be a dimly lit alleyway, the picture was clear enough - red spray-paint scrawled out the words 'We’re close’ on the brick wall. That was all the evidence Stephen needed to know that something was happening, and it could very likely involve Peter, considering the kid’s secret identity.

Just as Stephen was about to open his mouth to agree to help Tony, a red alert appeared on the phone screen. 

Tony, with confusion and obvious worry, turned the phone so he could see the screen without craning his neck. The warning read: “Baby Monitor Protocol - Mr. Parker has been active and moving for an hour.”

“What the Hell? F.R.I.D.A.Y, why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Tony asked sharply.

“You told me not to interrupt you unless something became a cause for concern, Boss. Would you like me to contact Mr. Parker?” F.R.I.D.A.Y’s voice offered from the phone.

“Him being out there for five minutes is a cause for concern at this hour. Connect me straight to his suit, Fri.” Tony requested.

“Yes, Boss.“ The AI responded.

Tony glanced over at Stephen again, the two of them silently agreeing to prepare for the worst case scenario - a scenario where they didn’t have time to protect Peter from a danger he wasn’t even aware of.  
——  
Peter had lost track of time as he swung around Queen’s, searching for something; anything that could lead him to May. In the back of his mind, he knew his efforts were futile. It was pitch black out, and rain was hammering down onto the streets below, making the search difficult. If there was one thing Peter knew from watching documentaries about missing person cases, it was that searches during the night and rain often turned up absolutely nothing. 

Still, he had to try. He was Spider-Man; if anyone could find someone at night, it was him.

Just as he landed on the tallest building on the block to examine the area, Karen’s voice filled his ears.

"Mr. Stark is calling, set to connect immediately,” her robotic voice informed Peter

“What? Karen, no-”

“Peter!” Mr. Stark snapped down the line, his face appearing in the corner of his eye on a small screen. “I thought we agreed, no late night patrols!”

“But Mr. Stark, you don’t und-”

“What I understand is that you could get hurt. So you turn yourself around and get home NOW, Peter.” 

A realization slowly dawned upon Peter, causing a deep frown to form on his face. Mr. Stark was more… worried than usual, more uptight. He turned his head to face the tiny screen with his mentor’s face on it and instantly saw how exhausted he looked. He couldn’t help but wonder why.

“I… I can’t.” Peter mumbled. With May gone, that apartment wouldn’t feel like home. He dreaded the thought.

“Then come here. I’m at the Tower, that is…”

“Three blocks away from Mr. Parker’s location.” Mr. Stark’s personal AI, F.R.I.D.A.Y, finished for him.

Peter looked up in shock, his eyes instantly drawn to the large Tower in the near distance. He hadn’t even realized how far he’d gone - how long had he been out for?

“I’m not even going to ask. Just get here as soon as we can, we’re on the seventy-second floor,” Mr. Stark informed him.

“Wait, we?”

No answer. The screen shut off, leaving Peter to his own devices. His gaze once again fell on the Tower ahead of him - he had a long explanation ahead of him, which wasn’t exactly something to look forward to.

Ten minutes and a security check later, Peter stood in one of Avenger’s Tower’s many elevators, moving swiftly to his designated floor. His mask hung loosely in his hand, the idea of wearing it inside an already small space sparking a faint buzz of claustrophobia. 

Soon enough the elevator dinged and the door glided open, so Peter stepped out. He glanced around him, his enhanced senses picking up a hushed conversation a couple of rooms to his left. Peter could only assume the voices belonged to Mr. Stark and whoever was with him. Without further delay, Peter stepped down the hallway and turned the handle to the door he had heard them conversing behind.

As he entered, their conversation ceased. Peter’s eyes bounced between Mr. Stark and Dr. Stephen Strange, both with grave expressions on their faces. It wasn’t a particularly unusual sight, but it provoked curiosity in the teenager regardless. However, his thoughts drifted back to his aunt and how she was still out there somewhere. How was he going to find her if he was being kept at the Tower?

“…Peter?” Mr. Stark asked.

The teenager realized he must’ve zoned out for a moment, as his name was repeated and the two adults were a few feet closer to him than they had been moments ago.

“Why aren’t you at home?” Strange asked.

Peter shakily lifted his head and met Mr. Stark’s gaze, his shoulders tense and his eyes unfocused. He fought back the lump forming in his throat, struggling to admit the issue aloud - it would just make it feel all the more real. 

Somehow, without breaking, Peter spoke the two words that had been plaguing his mind.

“May’s gone.”


	2. Chapter 2 - The apartment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Stephen, Tony, and a clueless Peter try to find out more about where May has gone, only to be met with an unwelcome sight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everybody enjoys chapter 2! Leave kudos and comment, and encourage me to write chapter 3 because I'm a lazy piece of trash ;)

“May’s gone.”

Tony felt his entire body tense, his face shifting to adopt a grim expression. He turned his head to face Stephen, who looked just as on edge as Tony felt - this fit far too perfectly, like a jigsaw.

A jigsaw with missing pieces.

This was wrong. Terribly, terribly wrong - he knew the sightings and May had to be linked, however, how could Peter know for sure?

“How do you know, kid? You sure she didn’t just crash at a friend’s place?” Tony asked, keeping his exterior calm and collected.

“Yes, I’m sure.” Peter insisted. “She would’ve left a note or a text or something! But she left her bag in the apartment and didn’t take her phone and… and…”

Peter’s stress was getting the better of him. It was understandable - his Aunt had left and it was completely out of character for her. Even Tony had to admit, May didn’t seem like the type to up and vanish without warning. Despite himself, Tony forced his muscles to relax and displayed a casual smile on his face for the kid. The last thing he wanted was for Peter to panic.

“Alright, kid. It’s gonna be okay - if she doesn’t show up in the morning, we’ll contact the authorities. Does that sound good?” Tony asked. 

Interacting with Peter still felt odd to Tony, yet the warm, almost parental persona he found himself falling into around the kid was a welcome one. He felt like a different person entirely - especially since the Vulture situation. But that was a thought for another time.

Peter seemed hesitant. “…Alright, I guess we can do that.” He agreed. “I’ll head back home, should I come back in the morning?” Peter asked.

“Woah, Woah, Woah.” Tony began, instantly disagreeing with Peter’s suggestion, even though the question was perfectly innocent. “You really think I’m letting you swing back to Queens at this time? Nice try, kid.”

“But Mr. Stark-”

“No ifs, no buts, no coconuts. There are plenty of spare rooms here, and I’d prefer if you stayed.” Tony stated firmly.

“I don’t have any clothes here,” Peter argued.

“We’ll find something, kid. Come on, follow me.” He encouraged.

Tony began heading towards the door, beckoning to Peter. With obvious reluctance, he followed.

“Hey Stephen, mind if I-”

“Not at all. I’ll still be here when you’re finished.” Stephen cut Tony off, urging him to go. It would give him a little bit of time to mull over the newfound information.

Tony nodded. “Right. Don’t fuck up reality while I’m gone,” he commented, guiding Peter towards the door by placing a hand on the kid’s back.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Stephen responded as Tony turned his back.

Tony smirked, despite Stephen not being able to see him as he lead Peter out of the room and closed the door. He considered, for a moment, telling Peter what he and Stephen knew. But he had no idea how the kid would react.

Well, that was a lie. He knew exactly how Peter would react. The information would make him devote all of his time to finding whoever took May, even to the point of damaging his own health. Tony knew it was selfish. The kid had the right to know, but all he could think was that he had to keep Peter safe.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter asked as the two entered the elevator.

“What’s up, kiddo?” The billionaire asked, glancing slightly up to face Peter.

“Sorry I was out so late.” He murmured, shifting as though he felt guilty and didn’t know what to do about it.

“It’s alright, Pete. Don’t worry about it, for now just worry about getting some rest.” Tony yawned as he pressed a few buttons on the elevator panel.

“But… I mean, I don’t want to intrude or anything, really Mr. Stark. I can go back home if me being here is bothering y-”

“Kid.” Tony started sharply. “If you were bothering me, I would’ve told you. And just in case it’s not clear, you’re not bothering me at all.” 

Tony had meant it when he had said he’d preferred if Peter stayed at the Tower. If May was gone, that could mean that Peter might not have long left. Especially if he stayed at his apartment. He just had to keep him away for a week, maybe two; or until they found May. Whichever comes first, Tony supposed.

Peter nodded, breaking eye contact. Just as he did so, Tony swore he saw him stifle a yawn.

“Was that what I think it was?” He asked.

“Not at all, Mr. Stark,” Peter replied almost sarcastically, causing a chuckle to slip out of the older man.

“Right, got it. Cause the sky is pink too, right?” Tony joked.

“Always has been as far as I can tell,” Peter said with a grin.

Tony shook his head, an amused smirk planted on his face as the elevator came to a halt. The doors opened, and the two of them stepped out.

“Alright, Pete. Second door to your right. Use whatever clothes are in there as pajamas, that’ll do for now, right?” He asked.

“Yeah, I’m okay with that. Thank you, Mr. Stark.” Peter gave Tony a sleepy smile, the exhaustion of the day creeping up on him.

“Of course, kiddo. I’ll be on the ninety-third floor in the morning.” He informed Peter.

“Alright, I’ll remember that. G'night, Mr. Stark.”

“See you tomorrow, Pete.”

With that, Tony headed back inside the elevator and down to the seventy-second floor. When he opened the door, Stephen was sat back in the same chair as he had been earlier.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Tony asked, opting to stand rather than sit.

“We can’t let Peter stay at his apartment.” Stephen ignored Tony’s remark, cutting straight to the point.

“I know,” Tony said. “I don’t think his aunt is going to be there waiting for him tomorrow morning. I’ll make sure he packs a back, he’ll be staying here.”

“Will the authorities be okay with that?”

“Well, where else are they going to put him, foster care? May’s his last living relative. I don’t care if it’s for as little as three days, he’s not going near a foster home.” Tony stated firmly, his shoes creating a quiet yet distracting echo as he paced closer to where Stephen was sitting.

“That’s probably for the best.” Stephen agreed. “I’ll be happy to help in any way I can.”

“You can start by coming with us tomorrow. Just a precaution.”

Stephen nodded. “I’ll open a portal here in a few hours. Does ni-”

“No need, Stephen. Just use a spare room, you know where they are. Plus, You don’t want to interrupt Wong’s beauty sleep.” 

“You do have a point. Alright, I’ll stay. We’ll leave when Peter wakes up.” Strange decided.

Tony nodded. He knew that night would be a sleepless one, with plenty of thoughts to keep him awake, but Peter was more important than sleep.

He could only hope that somehow, they’d find May soon.  
——  
Peter couldn’t help it.

He couldn’t help the fact that his spider senses were getting more and more agitated the closer they got to Queens. He couldn’t help the nervousness that was slowly but surely growing like a tree. The seed of worry seemed to have been planted to moment he had arrived home the previous day, and it had been thriving ever since - which wasn’t exactly a good thing for Peter.

Listening to the soft hum of the engine, and the murmur of Stephen and Mr. Stark, while he sat in the back seat, was oddly relaxing. The background noise was probably the only thing preventing him from losing his mind.

Peter’s train of thought was interrupted by the car coming to a halt right in front of his apartment complex. He felt his stomach flip, a strong wave of unease hitting him.

“Kid? You alright back there?” 

His head snapped up to face Mr. Stark, who had turned around to face him, expecting an answer.

“Uh, y-yeah. I’m good, we should go.” Peter gulped, habitually fidgeting with his hands.

Mr. Stark shared a look with Stephen, before sighing. “Alright, kid. Let’s go.”

Peter took that as his cue to get out of the car, the billionaire and the sorcerer following suit. He closed the door behind him and paused for a moment;

someone was watching.

His eyes flitted around the area, to the windows above them, then to the alleyway across the street. There, he caught the eyes of someone who was wearing a burgundy suit and black shades. He held the man’s gaze, his hands twitching by his side as his senses alerted him to the possible danger.

“You okay, Pete? What is it?” Mr. Stark asked, following Peter’s line of sight.

This pulled Peter out of his trance, and he faced Mr. Stark, confused as he studied his mentor’s reaction. His face had dropped, his expression hardened and he stiffened as if he knew exactly who it was.  
“Stephen,” he uttered under his breath.

“I see him,” Stephen responded, his eyes trained on the man.

Peter’s brow furrowed as he looked between the two. “What…?”

“Don’t. We’ll see if May’s in there. Either way, pack a bag, you’re not staying here.” Mr. Stark muttered steadily.

Peter didn’t disagree. A million questions ran through his mind, but some part of him told him not to question it - he could trust Mr. Stark. 

The group slowly turned and entered the lobby. Peter smiled at the receptionist as the passed her desk by the door politely, almost to excuse being with two of the most high profile people in New York City.   
As he turned to lead Stephen and Mr. Stark up the stairs, another man dressed identically to the one in the ally came from the stairwell, staring straight at the three of them as he walked. The only difference was he was carrying a large, black briefcase. Peter was about to comment on it when Stephen began striding ahead of them, knocking the man’s shoulder as he did so.

“My apologies,” Stephen told the stranger, who nearly dropped the briefcase. The sorcerer gestured to it. “I hope there’s nothing… important in there.”

Suddenly, the man became extremely uncomfortable. He cleared his throat, adjusting his grip and hastily walking out of the building.

“What the Hell was that?” Mr. Stark all but snapped.

Stephen simply held up a few strands of hair. “His DNA could prove to be useful.” 

“Holy shit, you’re a genius,” Tony muttered. “Alright, this is good. Keep a hold of that.”

“What else would I do with it?” Upon seeing the smirk on the billionaire’s face, Stephen rolled his eyes. “Don’t answer that.”

“I don’t plan to. Alright, sorry about that, Pete. Lead the way.”

Peter just nodded, deciding against questioning them for the time being, despite the suspicion he was experiencing. He led them up four flights of stairs and down the warmly lit corridor to his small apartment. 

“This is it.” He said, mostly to Stephen, as Mr. Stark had been there before. “Sorry if you were expecting more, it’s not much.”

Awkwardly avoiding their gaze, he turned the brass handle and pushed the door open, to be met with an unpleasant surprise.

The entire place was trashed. The couch had been tipped, the stuffing spilled out of a large gash in the seats. All of the furniture was either broken or knocked over, the lights were busted and even the windows were smashed. Peter froze up, the sight both infuriating and terrifying

As he stared at the mess created in his absence, only one thought crossed his mind:

What the fuck was going on?


	3. In which Peter finds out more

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter finds out more regarding May's case and takes the news well

“…Jesus, you didn’t happen to leave the place like this when you left, did you?” Peter heard Tony say from behind him.

The words didn’t quite register in his mind. His eyes drifted over the shattered glass strewn across the floor, the smashed plant pot by his feet, and the cracked countertops. His eyes lingered on the table where he had been sat doing his homework the day before. Two of the legs were ripped in half, the remaining wood nowhere in sight. On the floor right next to the fallen table, sat his schoolbooks, with all of their pages ripped out and torn into pieces.

Wordlessly, he stepped over the toppled plant and picked up a large piece of a torn page, inspecting it. There was no goal to the action - just mindless shock forcing Peter to draw a blank and stare at the paper.

“Kid?”

Peter looked up, turning only his head to look back at Mr Stark. He didn’t trust his voice to answer yet.

“Do you think you can do this?” Mr Stark asked, respectfully staying by the door.

Peter shrugged. He dropped the paper, his eyes once again scanning the room. He noticed a few things were missing - May’s handbag, pictures of the two of them and his school bag were the three main things he noticed. 

“Peter, hang on a second,” Stephen said. 

“But not everything is here. Some stuff is gone.” Peter explained, almost helplessly.

“Someone didn’t just walk in here to wreck the place,” Stephen started as if Peter had just confirmed his suspicions.

“Wait, you’re not suggesting that someone was looking to steal their stuff, are you?” Mr Stark asked.

“That’s exactly what I’m suggesting.”

Peter frowned. “But why would someone do that? It’s not like we have anything worth stealing.”

He caught a glimpse of what seemed to be guilt flash across Mr Stark’s face, but before he could even begin to think why, it was replaced by the same, thoughtful stare he had been displaying for the last few minutes. Deciding to drop ignore it, for the time being, Peter focused on the task at hand.

“Peter, can you tell us what’s missing?” Stephen asked.

Peter thought for a moment, checking just to make sure before he answered.

“Pictures of us, my schoolbag and… her handbag.” 

Peter’s eyes widened as the sudden realisation struck him. “Wait, her handbag.” He repeated.

“What’s so important about the handbag?” Stephen asked.

“Her phone. Maybe… Maybe whoever took her did this, and wanted her phone to destroy it.” Peter explained.

“Not a bad theory, kid, but why?” Mr Stark asked.

“Maybe it has some evidence on it?” Peter suggested.

The two adults exchanged glances, clearly thinking the same thing. Peter really didn’t want to push, but it seemed like they knew something he was unaware of; he didn’t want to be left in the dark. If he knew, he could help.

“That could be a possibility, you’re right,” Stephen said before a disappointed Peter could voice his concerns.

“I don’t think it’s safe here,” Tony mumbled. “Kid, go grab a bag and fill it with stuff you want to take. If your stuff is damaged too, we’ll sort something else out.”

Peter sighed but nodded. With a moment of doubt, he hopped over the mess and headed into his room.  
——————  
“You’re not gonna tell him?” Stephen asked, turning to face Tony as soon as the kid has left.

“Not yet. But I think he’s catching on just fine himself.” Tony responded, mentally assessing the damage in the apartment, distracted from what Stephen was saying.

“And you think it’s okay to keep secrets?” Stephen asked, raising a brow at the billionaire.

Tony sighed. “No.” He answered, drawing his focus to the conversation at hand. “I don’t. But I don’t want to make the situation worse than it is for him. If he knows who did this and that we think they’ve been trying to find his place for weeks, he’ll freak out.”

Stephen shook his head, almost radiating annoyance. “You’re as stubborn as ever. Yes, there’s a probable chance Peter will be upset. But if he knows, he can be of more use, and we could find his aunt before it’s too late. This isn’t about you - don’t be selfish.”

Tony studied Stephen’s facial expression, his jaw clenched. He would never admit it out loud, but words and the opinions of others were always a weakness of his. No, not the press, or cheap journalists. The words of people that he wanted to trust, because what would he be if everyone had the same thing to say about him?

“I’m trying to do the right thing,” Tony responded steadily, his tone laced with irritation. “I’ll make my choice. And I don’t care if it’s not the choice you like.”

Of course, Tony knew he had to tell Peter. He just didn’t know when to, or even how to. It wasn’t in his nature to just approach a sensitive situation and perfectly handle it - contrary to popular belief, he would lose sleep if he made a mistake with someone’s feelings.

Especially Peter’s.

He heard Stephen scoff but paid it no attention. All he wanted was to get out of the apartment and take Peter away from the situation, even if it was just for a little while. 

After a few short moments, Peter came back into the room with a backpack full of what he needed. Tony noticed it looked a little light, causing him to make a mental note to try and convince Peter to let him buy the kid some more stuff, despite how his offers were always refused.

“You ready, kid?” Tony asked.

Peter nodded. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

“I’m feeling an ice-cream break. You gonna join us, Doc?” Tony asked, acting like he didn’t just completely switch up his attitude.

“No. I’m needed at the Sanctum, but I’ll keep in touch.”

“Alright. Make sure you do,” Tony said with a nod, taking the moment as his cue to leave.  
——  
An exit from Stephen via a portal and a short drive later, Peter and Tony found themselves inside of the ice-cream store closest to Peter’s apartment complex. Tony had, admittedly, done a little digging, and found out from May a couple of months prior that this was Peter’s favourite place to get desserts in Queens.

“How is it?” Tony asked, gesturing to the cold, chocolatey treat Peter was eating.

“It’s great, thanks, Mr Stark.” Peter smiled, taking another spoonful into his mouth.

Tony chuckled fondly. “That’s good, kiddo. But you know you can call me Tony.” 

“Yeah, I know,” Peter said, shrugging and keeping his eyes on his ice-cream. “I just don’t want to start calling you it and accidentally make you uncomfortable.”

Tony paused. “That’s understandable - just know that it won’t.” 

“Okay, Mr Stark. Maybe one day. But you’re super old, so ‘Mr. Stark’ works better.” Peter raised his head, a small grin on his face.

“Alright, alright.” Tony had a smile of his own on his face, the light joking between the two relaxing him.

The two fell into a comfortable silence, both of them eating without interruption. Tony began to think, once again, about the choice he had to make. It was… difficult. On the one hand, the kid had every right to know - these people probably took May, and could potentially harm Peter too. Plus, if he knew, he could help out far more, as Stephen had told him.

On the other hand, Tony had a gut instinct to protect the kid at any costs, even to the point of withdrawing information for the sake of Peter’s mental health. He wasn’t sure why. All he knew was that the risk of Peter being hurt by what he knew was causing Tony to hesitate. A deep sigh escaped his lips, which seemed to catch the kid’s attention, as he looked up once again to face Tony.

“Kid, I’ve got something to tell you.” Tony forced himself to say, against his better judgement.

“Is it about those guys in the suits?” Peter blurted out, sitting up attentively with wide eyes. It seemed like he’d had questions on his mind for a long time.

“…Yes,” Tony responded reluctantly. “Just, don’t be annoyed if I don’t have the answers you’re looking for.”

Peter shifted in his seat and nodded. Tony took a moment to think of how to word what he was about to say but just decided to hit 'fuck it’ and tell him for God’s sake.

“Stephen and I believe they’re the ones who took May.” He told Peter, studying his face for a reaction.

“But… how could you know that?” Peter asked, his head tilted slightly in confusion.

“We, well, I was monitoring the area in case of threats, when sightings were reported around Queens of men in suits like we saw today.”

“So how do you know they took May?” Peter asked quickly.

“I’m getting there, kiddo, take it easy,” Tony assured. “The first two times seemed like nothing. But by the third, I realised they were getting closer to where you live every time.” 

“…How many were there before May?” Peter asked.

“Five. And they left a message the night before last on a wall. It said, 'we’re close’,” Tony said.

“And May went missing the next day.” Peter finished, connecting the dots.

“That’s right. Are you alright? We don’t have to ke-”

“They’re the ones who raided the apartment.” Peter cut Tony off. “The man walking out had a briefcase, he was wearing a suit - were the suits all burgundy? And it can’t be a coincidence that we found out that stuff was missing and damaged.”

“You’re right, about the suit and the apartment.” Tony nodded. “Well, according to Stephen and I.”

Peter nodded, and Tony watched as the kid thought over the information he had just been provided with. He seemed to be taking it well, which made a wave of relief wash over him.

“I’m not gonna lie, I didn’t know whether I should’ve told you,” Tony admitted, a proud twinkle in his eye as he smiled at Peter. 

“I’m glad you did.” Peter smiled back, newfound determination raising his spirits.

“And kid?” Tony asked.

“Hm?”

“You’ve got ice-cream on your nose.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed the chapter! What do you think is going to happen next?


	4. Missing Pieces - Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unbeknownst to Peter, he and Tony are being watched. Meanwhile, May wakes up somewhere completely foreign and realises that Peter’s identity was at risk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoy the most recent chapter! Make sure to leave Kudos and comments! Feedback is what keeps the series going <3

While Peter Parker and a very familiar billionaire sat talking and eating at a table by the window, a pair of watchful eyes studied the pair. He pondered. Maybe this job was riskier than he believed it to be. But orders were orders. So, with the briefcase that had been delivered to him moments before the pair had walked in tucked safely under his seat, he continued to observe.

Unlike his colleagues, he was dressed in everyday attire, as to not draw attention to himself. His task was to simply see where they went next, and to deliver a report straight to Amelia.

The last hour had changed a lot.

First, they had thought they could just walk into the Parker’s apartment and find Peter asleep. However, their plan had to change, as the teenager was nowhere in sight when Miles had visited the building. 

Miles was a new agent, under his care. He proved to be sloppy at times but what could he expect? All that mattered was getting the job done, getting the money and escaping the country.

He drew his attention back to Tony Stark and Peter as the two stood, gathering their belongings.

Pulling a burner phone from his pocket, he sent a text to Amelia. 

“They’re leaving now. I’ll give you another update in fifteen minutes,” it read.

A moment or two passed until he received a response. 

“Good. Don’t let them out of your sight, Alex.”

A smirk formed on Alex’s face as the read the message - he didn’t plan on losing them for even a second.  
——–  
Wispy, thin streaks of light seeped into the dim room, illuminating the dust particles in the air. Air that was thick with grim moisture and musk. May Parker’s vision came into focus, her senses returning to her after a long bout of unconsciousness.

She lifted her head, ignoring the pulsating headache threatening to knock her back out. Through bleary eyes she surveyed her surroundings - it seemed like she was in some kind of basement, with lots of exposed, large pipes. She attempted to move her hands, to caress the pain in her head, only to be met with the stinging of rope against skin.

She froze up, the reality of the situation hitting her full force. “Hello?!” She called out in a panic, hoping someone could hear her. “Is anyone there?”

Everything was silent for the next few minutes. All May could her was her heart hammering in her chest, and her laboured, nervous breaths, the sounds so loud in contrast to the eerie silence of the room that she swore she heard echoes.

A large, industrial door opened, causing yellow light to flood into the room. May squinted, barely able to make out the feminine silhouette in the doorway.

“May Parker.” The voice of a female drawled.

Heels clicked on the concrete, the figure becoming clearer and easier to see as the woman stepped closer until she was standing looking down at May from the space in front of the chair she was bound to.  
She appeared to be above the average height, her heels bringing her to around 5'8. Wavy, thick brown hair adorned her shoulders and framed her face, matching her almond shaped eyes but contrasting her peachy skin tone. There was a sense of high authority radiating from her. May was almost afraid to question her, as she stared up at the woman, unsure of where to start.

“Who are you?” She asked, only to be met with a pointed, questioning gaze.

“Queens certainly has a lot to be thanking your nephew for.” The woman continued, ignoring May’s question entirely.

May’s face paled, her eyes widening in shock. There was no way this stranger could know Peter’s identity. 

Was there?

Seeming to notice May’s reaction, the woman chuckled deeply. “Don’t be so surprised,” she said. “It was only a matter of time before someone found out who the famous vigilante, ‘Spider-Man,’ is.” She spat the name as if it was poison on her tongue, her face contorted in disgust.

“What do you want from us?” May asked, confusion lining her worried features.

The woman smiled. “We want payback.”  
——-  
“…Mr Stark?” Peter asked, checking the rear view mirror for what felt like the hundredth time in the short amount of time they’d been in the car.

His enhanced senses had been bugging him since they had stepped outside the ice-cream parlour, and they seemed to be drawn a black car behind them. He felt uneasy - from experience, he had learnt never to ignore that.

“What’s up, kid?” Mr Stark responded, tapping idly on his phone screen. They were both sat in the back of one of Tony’s cars, Happy driving them back to the tower. He had picked them up around ten minutes ago.

“That car’s been tailing us since we left.” 

Mr Stark glanced into the mirror, his eyes narrowing. “The black one?”

Peter nodded, his eyes glued firmly to the blacked out windows. “Yeah. What do we do?”

“Hap,’ Mr Stark called, knocking on the small glass panel that was quickly lowered. "See the guy- well, or girl. See the black car? Pete thinks the person there has been tailing us. Lose them,” he requested.

Happy followed Mr Starks instructions, turning sharply left. It lead them onto a fairly crowded road, and if they played their cards right, they’d lose their shadow without any complications.

Peter started bouncing his leg nervously, a habit he had developed recently. He bit his lip as well, keeping his eyes on the road ahead. What if they couldn’t get through?

“Kid, you doing okay?” He faintly heard Mr Stark speak from next to him.

“I will be,” Peter responded, opting not to lie to his mentor.

Shock registered in his brain when he felt a reassuring hand being placed on his shoulder. He turned his head to face Mr Stark, confused yet oddly comforted by the gesture. It wasn’t awkward or unwanted - just unexpected.

“We’ll get rid of them in no time,” Mr Stark said, gently patting Peter where his hand had been before taking his hand away.

Peter nodded, his gaze drifting back outside the window. He realised, after a few short moments, that he didn’t feel so anxious anymore.

Maybe they’d be safe after all.


	5. Missing Pieces - Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stephen, Peter, and Tony decided to officially report May as missing. When they arrive at the station, everything appears normal...
> 
> Until shit hits the fan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everybody enjoys Chapter 5! Please leave kudos, and more importantly COMMENTS! I can't stress enough that feedback keeps the series going. So, what does everyone think of today's chapter? And what do you think will happen next?

“We need to report her as missing.”

The words had slipped out of Peter’s mouth mid-conversation, shortly after he and Mr. Stark had arrived back at the tower. He hadn’t intended on being so forward, but the thought crossed his mind and jumped out of him suddenly. He saw Mr. Stark pause and wondered if it was the wrong time to bring it up. 

“Sure, kid. Do you want to make the call?” Mr. Stark offered.

Peter let out a breath he didn’t even realize he had held in. He simply nodded. It was a step forward, but something in Peter’s gut told him that it wouldn’t help much. Was it an irrational thought? Absolutely. However, the knowledge of that didn’t ease his concerns.

Mr. Stark pulled out his phone and dialed 911, handing the device to Peter. He kept a careful eye on him, presumably to jump in if he froze up or couldn’t explain himself properly. 

“…911, what’s your emergency?” The sweet, feminine voice of the operator sounded out from the phone.

“I’d, uh… I’d like to report my aunt as missing.” Peter spoke nervously, feeling his hands becoming slightly clammy as he did so. “Her name is May Parker.”

“Okay, thank you for telling us.” The operator said, seeming to notice how nervous Peter was to make the call. “Could you tell us the address? We’ll send a team straight away.”

Peter gave the address for their apartment.

“Wonderful, would you be available to come in for questioning? We need to know everything that you do to work as efficiently as possible.” The operator requested.

Peter nodded, then realized she couldn’t see him. “Oh- uh, yeah, I can do that.” 

“Alright, thank you for your assistance. Please make a visit to this Station, we’ve already sent them an alert.” The woman gave Peter the address to the closest Station to his apartment.

“Okay, thank you,” Peter answered, before hanging up.

He passed the phone back to Mr. Stark. “We’ve got to go in for questioning. Should we bring Stephen?” He asked.

“We’re most likely being questioned as witnesses, and he was there when we found the apartment trashed. And when you told me about May. So yeah, we’ll tell him to stop by.”

Peter mutely nodded in agreement, the two of them remaining in comfortable silence. After a while, he stood and allowed his feet to carry him to the window, staring blankly at the fog surrounding the tall buildings around him. He felt out of place. The situation made him feel helpless, something he definitely wasn’t used to: usually he’d be the one to jump in and heroically prevent someone from disappearing.  
But he hadn’t. And it made him feel completely useless.

He heard quiet yet purposeful footsteps approach as Mr. Stark came to stand by his side, presumably to gaze at the view outside. It wasn’t like he was too focused on it until he heard his mentor speak.

“This can’t be easy for you,” Mr. Stark had said, causing Peter to turn his head in surprise to face him, establishing eye contact. “I just want you to know that you’re not alone in this.”

Peter digested the words, almost skeptical of them. They had only had a few moments where Mr. Stark had been wholly open and careful with him. He knew the older man showed his appreciation in his own way, but he couldn’t help but to be doubtful - after all, when had anyone in his life been honest with him, or stayed with him?

Yes, Peter knew those thoughts were toxic. He was fully aware that people made mistakes, and most of his negative experiences were really the other party’s fault. Still: his parents promised they’d always be there to chase away the monsters under the bed, and would always kiss him goodnight. They’d promised to be there for his Christmas school play.

They had died before they could make it there.

Then his Uncle Ben had vowed to not fill the space, but to create a new foundation to build Peter’s life from. He’d tell him every single day that he couldn’t wait to see his nephew standing tall and proud with a graduation cap adorning his head and plans for the future buzzing around his mind.

He had bled out in Peter’s arms before he’d even reached senior year.

It was at this point that Peter began to build his own foundation, only allowing May to help build the frames, with occasional support from his friends. Most of the structure had been constructed by his double-life as Spider-Man: he was just Peter. But this other guy? He could help people.

It was Peter who had failed to protect May.

“What if we don’t find her?” He questioned faintly. Part of him was ashamed: he sounded so weak and vulnerable.

“We will,” Mr. Stark replied instantly, immeasurable confidence in his voice. “Even if no-one else tries, I won’t stop until I find her.”

The pair maintained steady eye-contact. Peter searched the hazel irises of his mentor for any signs of dishonesty or false hope, but all he saw was promise and determination. Was it possible that the famed billionaire, notorious for his selfishness and harsh attitude, was willing to devote his time and resources to help him so much?

It wasn’t that Peter didn’t know that Mr. Stark was a lot more complex than the media portrayed - he had more than enough firsthand proof to say he was a good person. There was just the fact that Peter had learned over time never to trust people regardless of how well he had come to know them. It was easier that way.

“…If we don’t-”

“Peter-”

“-If we don’t find her,” Peter pushed, “It won’t be your fault.” 

He knew that his statement would be ignored, but he was ready to defend his case no matter what Mr. Stark responded with. This wouldn’t be as simple as blaming someone who couldn’t stop what was already happening.

Mr. Stark’s jaw slightly clenched as he averted his gaze, internal conflict seeming momentarily age him. Peter didn’t understand. Why did this mean so much to him?

“I can’t say I agree with you, there, kid.” The older man answered. 

The two of them once again fell into silence, this time more awkwardly than before. Peter shifted, turning fully away once again to stare outside.

“…We should get going. Are you ready?” Mr. Stark asked.

Peter nodded, despite not feeling ready at all. A weary sigh escaped his lips.

“Better now than never.”  
–  
“Stephen.”

“Stark, Peter.” The sorcerer greeted.

The trio stood outside of the local police station, moments away from heading inside.

Tony decided to cut straight to the chase. “The cops are going to help us, there’s no reason to hide anything.” He explained. “We need to be honest if we want to find her.”

He noticed a suspicious glint in Stephen’s eyes as he shifted his gaze between Peter and the wizard. Instantly, Tony raised a brow.

“Anything on your mind, Doc?” He questioned.

“You don’t exactly have a record of getting the authorities involved,” Stephen pointed out. “Why is this any different?”

Tony paused, considering his words. He wasn’t exactly wrong. Maybe it was him being over cautious, but Tony was going all out for this. Usually, he’d jump right in and tackle the issue himself, but he found himself willing to explore as many avenues as he could. However, could he really just admit that with the kid standing right there? 

“…You know why.” He said, shooting a short glance in Peter’s direction.

He didn’t miss the confused furrowed brow on the kid’s face, but he pretended to only catch Stephen’s understanding nod. The doctor seemed to be satisfied with his answer, which was good enough for Tony.

“Alright. Let’s get inside, then.” Stephen decided and led the group inside.

The lobby was fairly small, yet professional. There was a desk, where a woman sat typing on a computer, a few grey seats pressed against the wall, and one door on each side of the room, including the entrance. The trio approached the desk, catching the woman’s attention. Her eyes widened in recognition as she made eye contact with Tony, yet she maintained a professional stance.

“Good afternoon and welcome to the Queens’ Police Department. Can I help you?” She asked, quickly flitting her gaze to the other two, before resting once again on Tony, who she seemed to be waiting to receive their answer from.

He cleared his throat, noting her name tag that read ‘Maria.’ “We made a call earlier, reporting an individual by the name of May Parker missing. We’re here to provide all of the information that we have.”  
Maria nodded. “We were alerted around ten minutes ago, thank you for turning up so soon. Time is everything in cases like this,” she replied. “We’ll have to interview you all separately. Is that okay?”

Tony immediately looked at Peter. “Are you okay with that, kid?” He asked, deciding Peter’s comfort was definitely a priority here.

Peter nodded, albeit with a moment of reluctance. “Yeah, I don’t mind.” He clarified.

Tony turned back to Maria. “Then it’s settled, that’ll be fine.”

Maria nodded, content with the response. “Take a seat, you’ll each have someone with you shortly.”

“Thank you,” Tony replied politely.

The three of them sat as she had suggested. Tony mulled over what he was going to say, already has a brief outline in his head. He glanced over to Peter, only to notice the kid’s leg bouncing, him biting his lip and his shaky, fidgety hands. It didn’t take much observation over the time that he had known Pete for him to catch onto the fact that there were all nervous habits of his.

“Are you sure you want to go in there alone?” Tony asked him, momentarily forgetting that Stephen was even there.

Peter appeared to have been broken out of a trance, his eyes snapping into focus. “Huh? Oh, uh…” He hesitated, clearly torn between what he wanted. “I’ll be alright, I’m just… worried, that’s all,” he explained. “But I have to do this.”

Tony nodded. “I understand, kid.” 

Peter looked pleased enough with that. 

The three of them didn’t speak another word to each other, all wrapped in their own thoughts. Tony knew that if this didn’t go well, Peter would be crushed and even just the thought pained him. He didn’t understand. It was like he had an instinct to protect the kid at all costs, on a level he had never experienced. It was ironic - Pepper had always joked about Peter being like his own son before…

Before nothing. That didn’t matter at the moment.

Roughly ten minutes later, two women and a man, all in police uniform entered the room from the left. They immediately saw himself, Peter and Stephen sat idly waiting.

“Are you all waiting for questioning?” One of the women asked, to which Stephen nodded.

“Yes,” he answered.

“Please, follow us.” She instructed.

The three stood and Tony shot Stephen a glance, nodding at the other man as if to say 'good luck.’

They’d need all the luck they could get.  
————  
“Take a seat.”

Peter sat in a slightly less comfortable chair that he’d been on mere moments ago. He surveyed the small room, not out of curiosity, but out of trepidation, attempting to find comfort in the details of the bland walls. They were white, and painfully dull, paired with an old, grey carpet. In the center of the room, there was a table with one chair either side of it, one in which was where Peter was situated.  
“What’s your name?” The police officer asked.

She had dark brown eyes and long, chestnut hair that was pulled back into a ponytail. Her face was soft, and appeared friendly, mostly due to the warm smile she displayed. It eased Peter’s nerves to be talking with someone who seemed so welcoming.

“Peter,” he replied. “My name is Peter.”

The woman nodded, seeming pleased that he had answered. “It’s nice to meet you, Peter. My name is Emma. How old are you?”

“Sixteen.”

Peter didn’t know why he was being asked basic facts about himself, but he did admit, it was easing him into a more relaxed mindset. His heightened senses weren’t picking up on anything out of the ordinary, it was just normal anxiety - still, it lifted a weight off his shoulders to have that soothed in such a subtle manner.

“You’re brave for coming here, Peter. Most sixteen-year-olds would refuse to come to a station for questioning.” She started. “I’d like to start by asking when the last time you saw your aunt was,” She requested.

Peter let out a shaky breath and nodded. “Yesterday morning,” he informed Emma. “I was getting ready for school, and she was getting ready for work. It was just a normal morning.”

Emma acknowledged his words. “What school do you go to?” She asked.

“Midtown high,” Peter responded. “I used to take the bus to and from our apartment complex but I prefer to walk now.”

“How long does it take to get home?”

“Around half an hour. Longer, if I stop to buy a sandwich.”

There was a moment of quiet where Emma took down the information provided in a small notebook. 

“So do you think she went missing after you got out of school?” She asked.

“Her bag was on the table with her phone still in it when I got home,” Peter said. “She normally gets back ten minutes before me, then heads back out to her second job once I’m there.”

“And yesterday was different?” Emma asked.

Peter confirmed with a nod. “She never leaves her phone. She would take it and text me if she was leaving early.”

“So what did you do?” She questioned.

“I… I did homework for a while, then fell asleep. I woke up a few hours later and she still wasn’t home.”

“What next?” She asked. “How did you end up with Mr. Stark?”

Peter couldn’t help but notice the flicker of genuine curiosity on Emma’s face, but he knew he had to lie. Imagine if he didn’t? 'Oh, by the way, I’m actually Spider-Man and just happened to be in the neighborhood.’ That would just be ridiculous.

“I took a cab.” He answered. “I intern under Mr. Stark, and he told me if anything ever happened to just turn up at his door and he’d be there.”

It wasn’t exactly the truth. But it wasn’t exactly a lie, either. Mr. Stark had really told him that several times in the past, so it wasn’t like he was just tugging on loose straws.

“Did anything else happen over the rest of the night?” She asked.

“No, but this morning we…”

Hang on.

Peter paused, the hairs on the back of his neck rasing suddenly. A chill ran up his spine and his brain snapped into flight or fight mode, every nerve in his body screaming 'danger!’

He snapped back to reality, pale as a ghost as his widened eyes reconnected with Emma’s. Suspicion decorated her features.

“Get down,” he told her, his voice steady yet shaky.

“What?” She asked, unsure.

Feeling pressure build in his chest, Peter leaped over the table and tackled Emma to the ground, pulling the table over to form a feeble barricade. She struggled, unaware that they were mere moments away from-

BOOM!

A forceful, unforgiving blast knocked him unconscious.


	6. Chapter 6

A dense indistinctive fog enveloped Peter’s mind, leaving him blissfully ignorant of his surroundings for a short-lived moment. Then came the pain: throbbing, sharp stabs of pain shooting through his brain as if a hammer was being repeatedly smashed against his skull. He felt the muscles in his face scrunch up in discomfort but felt detached from the action, feeling as though he were a hundred miles behind his body.

A faint hum that he registered as sound began to become distinguishable from the static wreck that he found his senses in. Slowly, it became more and more prominent. Was someone calling his name?

“…Peter. Peter!” 

Suddenly, he gasped, his eyes snapping open as he shot upwards, grabbing the arm of the person shaking his shoulders vigorously. Every muscle in his body was screaming ‘DANGER’ like a large red neon sign. Restraining himself in his dizzy state was laborious. It wasn’t like he wanted to cause harm - but the delirium of his heightened senses hammering in his skull, and the shock factor of a fucking explosion from the middle of nowhere made him far too ready to spring into action.

“Oh, thank God.” Emma breathed, not at all phased by his reaction.

At that moment, every knotted nerve untangled and jumped straight back to functioning - he was a car that had just been hotwired, the 'engine’ in his skeleton roaring to life. He couldn’t see what he looked like. But judging by the beads of cold sweat clinging to his temples, and wide eyes he could only imagine he resembled a terrified deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car.

Slowly, he released Emma’s arm, his shaky hands the water rippling water that was bouncing to the bass of a loud song in a club. So, instead, he opted to attempt to cease the quivering by gripping his wrist with his other hand. It didn’t do much. What did he expect when he was shaking to the bone? 

“…What happened?” He asked, eyes darting around the room. He squinted, the air clogged with dust.

“We would’ve died if not for you. Look around,” Emma said softly.

Peter let his gaze drift around the room, his heart jumping into his throat, nearly suffocating him. The wall to the opposite of the door had been completely blown out, chunks of the concrete settled in a jumped wreck on the floor, coming up to mere inches from where Peter was lying. Emma was right.

They would’ve been hit, and they wouldn’t have made it.

What about Tony?

Peter paled. He instantly jumped to his feet as the thought crossed his mind, not getting far. Gripping the wall, he clenched his jaw, fighting back the wooziness swamping his head. 

“Tony,” He gasped. “Tony, where is he?” 

His eyes found Emma’s as she stood, determination fixed on her features. Peter swore he noticed a flicker of concern on her face, but it was gone faster than he could process it.

“I don’t know. You were only out for a few seconds, he could be anywhere.”

Okay, this was good. Or was it bad? Mr. Stark could be anywhere, he could be hurt, or…

Or dead.

Peter was about to rip open the door and search every inch of the building, when yet another small explosion shook the building to its core, this time further away. He felt the walls vibrate and had to focus for a moment on maintaining his balance, the impact powerful enough to send jolts up his legs, making his knees feel weak. He stood tall, knowing he couldn’t waste any time.

As soon as the shaking ceased, Peter pulled the door open, his hands instinctively raising to shield his eyes from the heavy dust in the hallway. It wandered into the room like a lost child, causing him to instead hold the top of his shirt over his mouth and nose as to not breathe any of it in. 

“What are you doing?” Emma asked, stepping beside him, her hand resting on the gun in her holster.

Peter ignored the question, glued purely to his goal. The pain didn’t matter, the dust didn’t matter. The lives of Stephen and Tony? They mattered. He stepped outside of the room, his eyes strained as he tried to make out anything through the discoloured air.

“Not alone.” 

He dragged his gaze to meet hers. Her face was deadset into an expression of determination and stubbornness. Convincing her not to come along would be futile, after all, she was a cop - this was her job. So, he simply nodded. 

He could use all the help he could get.  
——-  
The first blast had Tony on his feet instantly. His eyes were fixated on the door, though he was frozen to the spot.

“Peter,” he breathed, speaking in barely a whisper.

Tony’s imagination immediately began to torture him, as it usually did when chaos erupted and he was thrown into the madness unprepared. When people he cared about were thrown into the madness. Especially Peter - he was just sixteen. Germany had been a mistake. Not speaking out about his suspicions regarding this strange group sooner was a mistake. 

Failing to ensure that Peter would be safe today was a mistake.

The cop in front of him cleared his throat. “Mr Stark, sir. Emma will get the boy to safety, I have to escort you out of the building. You need to get to saf-”

“Don’t tell me what I need,” Tony snapped, jumping into action.

He tapped on his watch and held down the touch screen to talk to F.R.I.D.A.Y, his legs carrying him towards the door.

“Fri, se-”

The second blast knocked the wind out of him. He felt his knees give out and he grunted as he hit the floor. At this point, he wasn’t even considering self-preservation. The kid was all that mattered. Nothing would stop him from getting Peter out of the line of fire. So, mostly physically unphased, he placed his finger back on the small screen.

“Fri, send Mark 42,” he instructed hoarsely, stumbling to his feet.

“Sir!” The cop protested. “I have my orders.”

“And I have a kid to protect,” Tony all but snarled, striding with purpose and almost ripping the door from its hinges as he jerked it open.

Enveloped in the cloud of dust, he looked to his left, then to his right, barely able to see three feet ahead of him. The lights flickered dimly, suggesting there had been damage inflicted to the electric system in the building. It dawned upon him that this would be more difficult than he had anticipated moments ago. 

Heavy footsteps began to approach from his right. Tony barely had a moment to react, before three consecutive crackles were heard, and two glowing, circular disks with runes imprinted on them materialised before him, aimed dangerously close to his face. His instincts told him to retaliate before he could process who it was when he caught sight of a very familiar wizard’s face.

“Stark, good,” Stephen muttered curtly, his magic withdrawing as he lowered his hands. “We need to find the kid.”

“What do you think I’m trying to do?” He answered, turning on his heel to head through the shrouded hallway, the sound of Stephen’s boots hitting the floor behind him assuring him that he wasn’t walking alone.

They marched onwards silently until they reached the room that Peter was being questioned in. Nothing. It was empty, with no sign that they had even been there in the first place. He stared out of the gaping hole in the wall, the midday breeze blowing into the space. He was surprised to see that there were no civilians peering in from the sidewalk outside. 

The hole in the wall… The wall that was now a pile of rubble. The legs of the table that Peter had probably been sat at were peeking through the pile of crumbled concrete slabs, and for a moment Tony considered the god-awful possibility that Peter was crushed between the chunks like a squashed bug.

As if on cue, the familiar sound of components of his suit shooting through the air met his ears. He reached out his hands as the gloves of the suit encased him, the other pieces doing the same. He braced himself as the armour connected with his body and formed his outer shell. Finally, the helmet encased his head.

“Fri, search for heat signatures in the rubble.” He instructed, the visual feed displayed in the suit switching to thermal mode. He waited with bated breath as F.R.I.D.A.Y scanned the pile.  
“Nothing here, boss. Would you like me to analyse the entire floor?” The A.I offered.

Tony relaxed slightly, the newfound control over the situation easing his nerves. “Run the scans.”

Another tense moment passed by.

“Thirteen heat signatures detected in the building excluding yourself and Stephen Strange.”

“How many are armed?” He all but demanded.

There was a pause. “Seven. Two of which are in Police Uniform. The rest of the force are leading the rest of the employees and nearby civilians to an evacuation point nearby.”

Tony felt his heart drop. That meant there were at least five aggressors in the building, all of which could be trying to take or kill Peter.

“There are five assholes ripe for kicking the shit out of on this floor,” Tony said, turning slightly to make eye contact with Stephen.

“We haven’t got any time to lose them.”  
———  
Peter had made the decision to remain cautious, keeping to the walls as he treaded carefully towards the back exit of the building. Emma was close behind him, the two remaining in focused silence as they proceeded.

“We’re almost out, keep going,” Emma informed Peter in a hushed tone.

They turned a corner, and sure enough, there stood a fire exit door, presumably leading outside. Peter glanced back to Emma, who nodded, and gestured for him to continue. 

As soon as he reached the door, he clasped his hands around the bar and pressed it down, allowing him to push the door open. The second he did so, light flooded the hall, momentarily blinding him as a pair of large hands picked him up and threw him, resulting in him ploughing into the wall and crumbling to the ground. He gasped, his chest feeling heavy from the impact, and the pain in his head suddenly intensifying. 

Something warm and wet trickled down the side of his face, causing Peter to weakly raise a hand to feel the spot that his head had come into contact with the wall. He flinched, retracting his hand to see that the tips of his two fingers were coated in blood. A flicker of panic shot through him at the sight.

The weighted footsteps moved past him, another set joining them, and Peter stared up at the figures through narrowed eyes. His heart froze in his chest, stiffening his body as he caught sight of the automatic rifles they both carried. His eyes flickered to Emma, who had her handgun raised defensively.

“Stay back or I’ll shoot!” She warned, her voice wavering slightly. 

It dawned upon Peter that she’d probably never been in a situation such as this one before. He wanted nothing more than to jump into action and get her out of harm’s way. It was almost torture. There was nothing he could do without his suit or web shooters, while he was just helpless little Peter Parker, waiting for someone else to save the day. But…

There was something he could use.

His super-strength wasn’t something he’d usually rely on. He usually found himself struggling to control it, not to mention the suspicion that a teenager being able to overthrow two heavily armed men would arise. No - that was a stupid thought. What should matter more was Emma’s life, not trying to avoid attracting attention, particularly considering there already seemed to be an organized group on his family’s case.

“Ma'am, you have to the count of three to turn the fuck around, and start walking away.” One instructed. His voice was low and gravelly: demanding and threatening.

Silently and carefully, Peter shifted and placed the balls of his feet on the ground. He paused. They didn’t seem to notice. Emma wasn’t budging, her eyes fiercely affixed on the aggressor talking to her, her finger poised on the trigger, despite how her hands began to noticeably tremble.

“Three.”

Peter raised himself until he was standing in a crouch, steadily beginning to tread lightly towards the second guy, who was standing behind the main perpetrator. Like clockwork, he devised the best possible option, deciding to strike his neck and rip the helmet off his neck the second he got close enough.

“Two.”

Emma still didn’t falter, but she noticed Peter and her eyes met his as he moved closer. He shook his head frantically, urging her not to draw attention to him.

“One.”

Too late. It all happened too quickly for Peter to process, but he heard three gunshots and the sound of a body hitting the ground. As he launched himself onto the man’s back and wrapped his arm tightly around his neck, he was instantly met with a cry of “What the fuck!” 

He had latched onto the attacker mid-turn, resulting in his movements being sloppier than he had hoped for, and giving the other guy time to react. Before he even had a moment to apply more pressure to his throat, he was grabbed by the scruff of his neck, pulled over the man’s head and thrown back down to the ground.

A rifle was pressed against his head, and the man’s laboured breaths filled the eerily quiet space. “I oughtta kill you right here,” he growled, straining to keep himself controlled.

“Calm the fuck down, man.” The other guy cut in, nudging his shoulder forcefully. “Amelia wants him alive. Now come on, we’ve gotta got out of here.”

Peter’s gut suddenly twisted and his heart dropped as he realized, the gunshots weren’t from Emma. He snapped his head to where she had been stood moments ago, his worst fears confirmed.

There lied her crumpled body, her chest weakly heaving. He found himself completely detached from the situation, fixated on the woman who was trying to protect him and was hurt badly in the process. He didn’t mean for this to happen.

He just wanted to find May.

He didn’t fight it when he felt himself being pulled away - his mind was too numb to react. The one time it might’ve mattered the most, he let somebody else get hurt.

He failed at protecting yet another person.


End file.
